


Ante (before)

by Acnara



Category: Only Power - ObsidianPen
Genre: Character Study, Gen, i´m just gonna kyrilu my way out of this one and go with
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2019-04-30 19:35:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14504025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Acnara/pseuds/Acnara
Summary: Life is like the ocean. It goes up and down.





	Ante (before)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ObsidianPen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ObsidianPen/gifts).



> Nothing here belongs to me, all the characters/mayor plot lines are from ObsidianPen´s original story Only Power. You should definetly check it out if you are into roman-inspired stories. This is just me writting some facfiction because I´m in love with the story. (I´m so, so weak...)  
> No kidding tho Jamie´s story is pretty fantastic if I say so myself so you might want to check it out just saying.

 

_"Do you recall when the Ostinite empire discovered and conquered the Torozi?"_

_"Yes," Hadrian answered, for he did._

 

He is five, and he has never seen the sea. He knows it exists, of course, for his tutors often talk about it. Fishing, and stock and ships. One day it will be important for him to know about those things, his mother says. Meanwhile, he doesn't _really_ believe in it.

“No way,” he jumps from his seat “it can't be bigger than Lake Hassium. Stop lying dad, I'm not dumb.”

His father laughs, and messes his hair with his huge hand. It covers all his head and Hadrian tries to act as if he hates it. Even standing he isn't as tall as his sitting dad.

“I promise, kiddo. It's so big you can't see the end of it. One day you'll see.”

 

-0-

 

He is five, and all he has ever known is the sea, the sand, and the sun. He is diving near the reef, trying to find some nice rocks for his mother. He was supposed to be helping the rest of the boys fishing and not playing, but if he comes back with something nice for his mom he will get away with it.

There is a beautiful pink rock at the very bottom of the sea. He tries to catch it again, and it slips right of his fingers again. He breaks the surface, his heart beating like crazy and the taste of salt on his tongue.

Someone is calling his name, and as he turns to face his sister he catches sight of the ship emerging from the horizon.  


-0-

 

He _despises_ the parties. His parents dance and smile and he is left there, with the other kids. He is not sure when being left with the other children turned into his private little nightmare.

His eyes are all red and puffy when he looks at himself in the mirror. He looks for a long time, and closes his right eye. Then, he closes the other one. Demetri and his friend's cruel words feel so heavy on his shoulders a small sob escapes his lips. He hopes the slave waiting outside the door can't hear him.

_Demetri’s friends_. Those used to be his friends, too. He is not sure when that changed, either.

 

-0-

 

The ship smells like puke. He doesn't know much more. He is chained to the other children  -some he knows, some who don't even speak his language- and the old woman who had just vomited is crying quietly.

The steps above their heads are heavy and quick, the voices deep and frightening.

Everyone is so very quiet, and he has stopped trying to talk to his family. He can't see where they are and he can barely hear their voices above the sound of the sea and the wood and _them_.

When death comes, he doesn't see it coming.

 

-0-

 

He hates this. He feels so small all the time, like he is choking on his own breath. He doesn't want this. Any of it.

His mother sights as he abandons the rooms.

 

-0-

 

There is blood everywhere. _His_ blood.

“I said,” the man with fire head repeats, stoic and unimpressed by his wimpers of pain “your name is _Kane.”_

He is not sure if his screams are from pain or rage.

 

-0-

 

He has stolen some paint from his father's study, and the mixture of blues and purples is drying on his skin. He is not sure of _what_ he is painting. It's just a big blue spot with nothing around it but different shades of more blue.

He wonders if that's what the sea looks like.

 

-0-

 

The water in his bath is warm as the dirt is washed off him. He sometimes thinks about that pink rock that still lies on the bottom of the ocean because he couldn't held his breath long enough to catch it.

The bath runs cold soon enough.

 

-0-

 

When he sees his opportunity, the small shade of understanding on his father's eyes, he clings onto it with all his might.

He kisses his mother goodbye, lets his father mess his hair, too excited to care, and jumps on his horse.

He sees the sea and breathes for what feels the first time in his life.

 

-0-

 

"One day that damned ego of yours will get you killed” says the old lady patching up his wounded back. She is applying the ointment on his skin almost carelessly, as if couldn't care less about how much it might hurt him. He still hears her curse under her breath. Their training is never easy, but he does talk more than the others.

She curses again. He lets himself think of her as kind for a second. She is gone next thing in the morning, but he doesn't ask why and Nel doesn't talk about it anyway. 

 

-0-

 

“Hadrian” he smiles, shy and unsure.

“Are you new?” the woman in the tavern smiles back at him. “I would remember eyes like that.”

It has been a while, but it still stings. A lot. Yet he shakes the feeling off and doesn't let his lips drop for even a second.

Hadrian Horatius had been ashamed. Hadrian, would _not_ be. Never again.

 

-0-

 

There is blood in his mouth and a dead body at his feet. The name is screamed by the crowds and he bathes in it.

He doesn't realize he is smiling until the arena roars. He is not sure why it feels so genuine.

_Vrykolakas._

 

-0-

 

His father had told him that he would be welcomed back home at any moment. Six times, at the very least. And that was _before_ be had actually left their own villa.

He sips at his ale and smiles. The alcohol is sweet, sweeter than what the people in the capital would appreciate, but his new friends are laughing and asking for another round and he can only finish his cup and accept the next.

_I'm sorry dad_ , he almost thinks. Then he is laughing at a particularly not-so-innocent joke until there are tears falling down his cheeks.

 

-0-

 

He shines. Everyone speaks his name in awe and fear, and as he raises his hands over his head to please the bloodthirsty audience and he feels so close to the sun he might burn.

Then he is back in his dark cell and shines no more.

 

-0-

 

He learns how to sail, how to paint, how to play. In private, with his friends, he even sings.

He sometimes answers his mother's letters, too.

 

-0-

 

He is defeated, broken, laughed at. When the others can't see him, he might even mourn his fate.

Then he is given silver, and he goes back to mourn just everything he lost all those years ago.  

 

-0-

 

He is eighteen when he hears his house’s name in a crowded bar. The letter in his bag seems to weight more than a thousand rocks as he passes through the city doors. He tries not to think about the words on it. He fears them too much.

He also fears he will never again see the sea.

 

-0-

 

He is twenty three when he breathes in the dust of the training pitch once again as the sun shines on him. He knows he will win his fight in the games.

He also knows he will never again taste the sea.

 

 

 


End file.
